Tezz and Fays First mission! Ariolus, the Sanhedrin's headquarters, could be seen rising above most all other buildings. "Turn left down this street, then straight for about 200 yards." Fay said quietly. Her head and body was covered with a brown servant's robe. She walked exactly 2 feet behid Tezz with her head down, as if she were his personal servant. She also carried a bag in her hands, containing supplies, to finish the needed appearance. Without this ruse she wouldn't be able to go very far as she was not a flow weilder. However, very few people gave a second glance at servants. "I think I see it, security looks tough, I hope you are a good actor." Tezz mused, despite the risk of the whole operation he seemed calm. As they drew nearer Tezz cautioned her. "You don't have to come in side if you don't want to, I would hate to get you in trouble for this. If you want to turn back now's the time to do it." Fay chuckeled quietly. "This is the most fun I've had since I led those mean girls into that maze I created and..." She stopped as they reached the gates. Her heart rate reached a new high as the guard growled at Tezz. "What purpose do you have with the Sanhedrin?" "My name is Tezzriac, I have travelled far in my search of one capable of wielding the flow at master level power, I am aware that a powerful flowmancer dwells here, one named Malief I wish to meet him." The guard studied both Tezzria and his "servant" closely. After several seconds he said, "I will send a message to Malief informing him of your request. Should he choose to accept, you will be contacted with a time and place of his choosing." The guard said, sounding extremely bored. "Any attempt to harm or trick the Sandhedrin will result in your and your servant's imprisionment and death." He held out a common communicator and Tezz pocketed it. "Have a pleasent stay in Imperia." With those words the guard turned towards one of the guards inside the gate to send the message. Tezz turned to Fay looking a little more excited than usual, "Bet you you haven't talked with one of the shrouded before, this is kind of nerve racking actually...Thanks, for all your help by the way. Honestly I have never met anyone I felt I could trust so quickly." Then suddenly looking embarrassed, he turned back around blushing slightly. "Urrm...right...lets, focus on the mission." he said twirling his thumbs awkwardly.
The arrival of two members of House Douway did not go unnoticed by the Jarn embassy staff. The security checkpoint sent a message inside as the two were checked, which was in turn forwarded to the 3 newly-arrived Jarns. They and Brezzo were still lounging in the restricted area and watching the news about the attack on the Bouway embassy, so when word came that two of that House were at their doorstep, they couldn't help but feel obliged to greet them formally. Technically holding the highest rank among them, Nathan was designated to be the official greeter, while Carlson would accompany since he had dealt with Douway before on official business. Nathan and Carlson Jarn The two men checked each other's appearance briefly, then strolled out from the lounge and towards the entrance hall. The emerged into the grand room just in time to hear something about "assist Lord Douway" echo off the walls, and upon seeing a Sanhedrin quickened their pace out of respect for the mysterious species. "Welcome to the Jarn embassy, honored Douway. I am Nathan Jarn, and this is my cousin, Carlson Jarn." The two now reached normal conversation distance with the Douways, and stopped long enough for a respectful bow. "I am very sorry to hear about the attack on your House, and will gladly offer any assistance we can in light of our two Houses' friendship." The burnt arm of the young human caught his gaze. "Would you like a doctor to treat that, sir?" Brezzo Corun and Mason Jarn When the message about house Douway's arrival came back, Mason's heart jumped a beat when he was told a Sanhedrin was among the pair. He kept his emotions and features in check while his cousins were still in the room, but in his mind thoughts raced about. House Jarn was approaching the cliff of financial plummet in recent months. Necessary but extravagant upgrades to military and economic infrastructure in their home city of Krensburg thinned the House budget significantly, and arguably avoidable delays in the construction of the grand ship Berenthia, an exploration vessel intended to seek out and explore unknown worlds, were further draining their resources. Mason had heard rumors before their expedition left that this might be their last for some time as money was sent to more profitable and practical projects. Mason was not one to just be pushed aside, though. He never openly communed with House Douway, but through their mutual trade agreement, it wasn't difficult to send messages and goods along typical supply lines. In the past, most of these transactions were personal, but he had donated some of his profits to Jarn out of duty and in hopes of avoiding questions. This business had brought him some information about the workings of House Douway. It wasn't much beyond publicly visible persons and their support staffs, but a name was always good to have when it came to business. One name which Mason learned this way was Malief, the Sanhedrin advisor to Representative Rosalyn and her son, David. Mason did not know much about the mysterious man, but the shadow's position in House Douway was significant enough that Mason knew information passed through him would reach higher up in Douway, and the Sanhedrin was probably aware of some of what went on beneath him, as well. This is what came to mind as a security feed of the meeting in the embassy hall played on the screen in front of Mason and Brezzo. The faces of Hosue Douway were fairly known to Mason, and, considering recent events, he felt it was a safe guess the young human was David Douway, which meant the elegant shade was probably Malief himself. "Amazing, are they not?" Brezzo's eyes were transfixed on the image of Malief. He had rarely seen Sanhedrin in his time on Surmarack, and the stories of their mystic powers were amazing. Now there was one in the same building as him, and Brezzo wasn't sure if he was eager or intimidated to meet it. "Do they eat? I imagine all living creatures must eat something, but what does a shadow do for sustenance? Perhaps the Flow sustains them somehow, or maybe some type of radiation. What beautiful robes this one is wearing. How does a shadow wear robes, exactly?" Brezzo's thoughts were lost on Mason's conscious, it being occupied with more important questions. Finally, Mason snapped out of his trance. He jumped up from his seat, strode quickly over to the pile of bags and hard cases from their expedition, and selected a medium-sized bag he had used as his personal collection carrier during the last month. The sound of metal and glass came from the bag as he fingered through the samples for anything out of place. Everything was in order, so Mason took a moment's breath, then carried the bag back over to where Brezzo was musing about the effects of a prism thrown at a Sanhedrin and sat down heavily. Mason watched the screen for a moment before turning his eyes to his feline companion. "Brezzo, my friend. I have something to ask of you." Brezzo stopped his rant and curiously returned Mason's gaze. "Those two from Douway are important people, and will be treated as such, of course, but the Sanhedrin is particularly important to us right now. Simply put, this bag," he indicated the sack just placed at Mason's feet, "contains samples and data he will pay us handsomely for. I need you to deliver it to him and make the transaction." Brezzo was confused. He thought their expedition was purely scientific and for the disposal of Jarn's research department. Mason explained the Douways were also aligned with the Alaouda, so these samples would be put to good use in Douway's hands. Brezzo asked what kind of work the Sanhedrin did for the Douways, and Mason could honestly reply he did not know, but the shade would see the samples to the proper hands. Brezzo asked why he was the one to make the transaction. "Please, Brezzo, I've always known I could count on you in important situations? I still remember watching you take down those wolves bear-handed, like you were king of the woods, and how you crawled into that damn tiny crevice to find our supplies after Nathan dropped them down there. Now, I need to just do this for me." Mason held the bag out at arms length towards his friend, and Brezzo sat silently for a moment. "Very well, friend. I am sorry we have to sell of our knowledge like this, but if you say it is for the good of the House, and the good of Alaouda, then I will play the merchant." He took the bag and set it beside him on the couch. "Am I simply to walk up to the Sanhedrin and demand payment?" "No. Go to him later, once all the formal greeting is done and everyone is settled. His name is Malief, and tell him you are settling a deal made two months ago on for our mutual benefit. He should remember the details and pay you without complaint. It should be something around one-hundred-fifty thousand, though you might be able to haggle him up another ten." Brezzo nodded and committed the details to memory. He would approach Malief later tonight, if possible, and get the deal over with so he could be ready to return home with the rest of their collections as soon as possible. For now, he returned his attention to the television where the news told the assault on Vandemirium was reaching its final stages.
Renaith Nelvas Almost as soon as Renaith got off the phone with his secretary Erminia, Renaith pressed a button on a nearby remote and turned on a large flat-panel television screen. The news he'd received about the attack on the Conventum had come too late, and he'd already dismissed his messengers. The Isthian needed to keep a close eye on the situation and its aftermath, and the news channels were probably his best bet. Renaith knew that, sooner or later, he would need to issue an official statement about the attack. But first, he would need more information. It would not do to appear uninformed in front of all of Surmarack. Yet the first item on the news was not about the assault on the Conventum at all; in fact, there was breaking news about yet another attack, this time on House Douway. Renaith stared at his screen in disbelief. The Douway embassy was in flames and all of the unlucky souls in there were dead. Surely this was no coincidence, the diplomat thought. But who was behind this latest assault? And why target House Douway at all? Renaith closed his eyes and turned off his monitor. There was no time to waste. The longer he waited to issue a statement, the more likely the people of Surmarack would assume the Imperium and his office were indifferent to the two deadly attacks. The diplomat picked up his phone receiver once more. "Madam Erminia," he said, "please contact all media outlets and news channels. I need to give a press conference within the hour." "Yes, sir," Erminia replied. She sounded a bit frazzled, but she was trying to keep her composure as well as she could, bless her soul. An hour later, Renaith came out of his office and headed down towards the press conference room. Outwardly he was the soul of professionalism and calm under pressure, but he was strained by the terrible events of the day. However, he needed to have a brave face for the press conference. It would not do to have everyone on Surmarack see the Imperial Diplomat negatively affected by the two attacks. He needed to be a rock for the people, the voice of reason amidst the insanity in the capital. As he approached the lectern on the podium, cameras flashed and lights glared at him. Renaith did not even blink once. "Citizens of Surmarack," he began. "Today has been a most terrible and trying time for us, not only for the Houses who suffered great losses, but for us all. I would first like to extend my deepest sympathies to all of the families who lost loved ones in the attack on the Conventum and on the Douway embassy today. Such senseless loss of life touches each and every one of us, including myself." Renaith paused for a moment to clear his throat. "I would also like to stress that the Imperium condemns both fatal attacks today. We do not condone the use of violence and we assure you that the Imperium is not behind these senseless assaults. Furthermore, I would like to officially announce that the Imperium is severing all ties to House Gibrani following their assault on the Conventum, effective immediately and until further notice. Also, please rest assured that we are investigating both attacks and we are doing everything in our power to discover who was behind the assault on House Douway and bring them to justice." Renaith scanned the room calmly. The reporters seemed to hang on his every word. "The floor is open for any questions that you may have," the diplomat announced. The lights flashed again and a cacophonous drone filled the room as every reporter spoke at once. This would be a long conference, he thought to himself. Another hour later, the Isthian diplomat managed to escape back to the quiet confines of his office. The press conference had left him weary, but there was still much work to be done. He had already arranged an investigation into the Conventum attack, but he needed more information about the assault on House Douway. There were reports of survivors, but Renaith needed to know for sure. He recalled that Houses Douway and Jarn were on good terms, so he figured the best way to know if anyone from House Douway survived would be to contact the Jarn embassy. Any Douway survivors would likely find their way there. "Madam Erminia," Renaith said as he lifted his phone receiver once more, "I will be leaving for the Jarn embassy shortly. Please reroute my calls until I return."
Joshua Foresyth The shuttle settled down on the landing pad outside of the lush Foresyth estate. All around the estate was the agricultural district of Forsythia. Fields and valleys, dotted with homes, stretched out for miles. A small village in the center, a little ways away form the Foresyth estate. On the way there, Joshua and his father had had a heated discussion over what House Foresyth should do. They had finally agreed that cutting trade agreements with the League, and appearing to side with the loyalists would be a wise precaution. They didn't have the military to justify becoming involved in a revolution. They stepped out of the shuttle, and the cool night air shone on them, distant stars glistening in the sky. Joshua wondered for a moment if one of those was Sol, with earth spinning around it. House servants had rushed out to assist with their luggage. And in the flurry of activity, Joshua and his father waled slowly along the path to the house, in silence at first. "Do you really think that the Suvos Mactan are planning something?" Joshua asked. "My source is reliable. It's not surprising really, Alaouda, the League, even the Loyalists, all have their own agendas and schemes." His father responded. "Especially the League. Alaouda may be suspect right now, but the League is up to know good, I can feel it." Up ahead, Barry, his father's senior analyst and adviser ran out. "Count!" He called, using Wilhelm's title, "You need to see this! Rosalyn Douway has been murdered! The houses are in uproar, laying blame here and there! It's a diplomatic nightmare!" "What! Rosalyn is dead!" Wilhelm exclaimed, clearly shocked. They had been close friends for years, having know each other since they were young. "What happened?" "A bomb was planted in the embassy. Her son, David, and a Sanhedrin adviser, Malief, appear to have escaped unharmed and are taking refuge with the Jarns." Barry replied. "Who was behind the attack?" Joshua asked. "No one is sure. At first it was believed that it was the Imperium, but they would have no reason to attack Douway." "Come, tell me everything you know in my study." Wilhelm said and he and Barry moved quickly into the house. Joshua was left standing outside. He had a bad feeling, had for weeks, but now it was getting worse. Everything seemed to be spiraling downwards. He looked at the heavens, the great expanse of stars, and said a silent prayer to the divine. As he prayed, he resolved that the next day, he was going to return to the capital. He needed guidance and the only place that he could find that, he knew, was the church of Suvos Mactan, even if they were planning something.
The girl with the crimson body The long robes that decorated her body, pointing her as a member of the church, slowly fell down to the floor, revealing a crimson suit covering her skinny yet beautiful body. The Suvos Mactan found the results of the rebellion and commanded by their leader Kalara, they executed they job as the holy church; after that all besides Kalara and other member left the remains of teh battlefield and went back to the church; all except one that with a remarked skill to move without being noticed, left the group as she usually did when their leader wasn't there. The church executed their work diligently, all except one; her white robes were clean, no stain disturbed their colors; yet the crimson suit was precisely of that color to hid the crimson color that travels as a river inside the body of people. She was an skilled human thought, so even if she was wearing the robes of the Suvos Mactan, only the crimson suit inside the robes received the stain of the crimson river of certain person. So, she abandoned the group, and was now alone inside an small room not too far from the church, she prepared herself to take a bath, when suddenly she received a call, from that person. As natural she answered the call. "Yes, I managed to keep the secret...." "Don't worry, I made sure for him to be dead; it was a luck for this rebellion to came this day...." "Hoh? what's that?..." "I'm getting bored of talking with you, see ya!" And then she disrupted the communication line, she unplugged the little artifact inside her ear and let it lie over a desk. Then she sumerged into the water of the bath, while thinking. Hmmm, it was quite a surprise for this to happen this day.... I would gladly thank to the one who started it though.... It saved me the job of pulling the strings for it.... Well I'll guess that I won't have to worry regarding the first step... And then Veeta Dekeyrel enjoyed her bath after doing her job
Malief and Zangir ”Would you like a doctor to treat that, sir?” David snatched his arm away from the Jarn members and screamed at them. “Leave my arm alone!” The boy always had a soft spot for needless rage and anger, but the gravity of recent events had sent him into a spiral. The two Jarn members backed off slightly, wary of David’s physique. Though he was only sixteen, the boy’s body had developed early in size and muscle, with the testosterone to match. “David they bring you aid… in your time of need.” The high pitched tone of the Sanhedrin rang through the hall, echoing along the finely-polished ceiling. “If you refuse treatment… then at least accept painkillers.” David turned to the Sanhedrin tensed up in rage, but slowly it dissipated as he stared at the creature that had saved his life. After a grumbled ‘fine’, he followed the Jarn members into a different room. Malief waited, taking in the beauty of the room, absorbing the history on its walls. Rich blends of gold and silver adorned the walls, from the steel sword of Mavros Tor’zan, a valiant defender of the House at the battle of Hillbrizkcz, to the glittering crown of Issac Jarn, a previous House leader and self-proclaimed King of Jarn, though most called him ‘Mad Issac’. He butchered his wife with reasons of jealousy, and then his children for being the product of corruption. His own brother, Faros Jarn, had to slay him. After the deed was done, the sibling and new heir never spoke another word for his 50 year reign. Human history excited Malief, they were so responsive to emotion and weakened by it, that it almost became entertaining. _______________________ ”Urrm…right…lets focus on the mission.” “And what mission would this be?” A low hiss beckoned from the darkness of the alley, and from it emerged a shadow figure, draped in black robes. “You have need of my Master, no?” The words were like venom, seeping into the skin of the young pair. “This is not the place. The evening draws near. Nightmares awaken. Listeners open their eyes in the fall of the sun.” He shuffled further into view, revealing his black face with only two bright white eyes. “My name is Zangir. Do you have somewhere we can converse, away from the maiden of lies?”
Nathan and Carlson Jarn The young man's rage in defending his wound was very surprising to Nathan and Carlson. They understood the trauma of surviving such an attack would put anyone on edge, but refusing medical help was sometimes an early sign of mental instability, which could someday lead to very poorly-judged actions. The piercing ring of the Sanhedrin's voice somehow seemed soothing after the boy's screams. Carlson Leaned over to Nathan and whispered "I believe he is the son of Rosalyn, the Douway's representative. Probably a bit spoiled, so let's not get pushy." To their relief, though, he sullenly agreed to follow them after the Sanhedrin's council, and Nathan paged for the embassy doctor to meet them in the medical wing. The trio walked calmly and quietly out of the main hall. The side corridors of the embassy were still pleasing to be in, but much smaller and more practical. Security cameras were quite visible--at least, the one-way glass protecting them was--every ten meters along the ceiling, and all the doors were designed to withstand heavy abuse before yielding to invasion. Still, thick windows let in the dim light from the city outside the complex, and warm bulbs created a somewhat homely feeling in the hard-walled corridor. They reached the medical lobby, where a recently awoken doctor rubbed his face in an aggressive attempt to clear his sleepy head before noticing their arrival. He gave the customary bow to his entitled guests, and, with permission, examined young David's wounds. He began to speak of skin grafts and ointments, but a subtle gesture from Nathan cut the doctor's speech. "He just wants some painkillers to sleep more easily tonight. The scars themselves aren't a huge concern." The doctor gave a confused and slightly upset look at them, as he was a man who loathed correction from non-medical minds. But, on a short temper and eager to get back to bed, the doctor simply gave a slight shrug, went behind the front desk, and dosed out three small pills. "These should numb you up quite well for the next six hours. I can't promise a pleasant morning, but your sleep tonight should be easy, as long as you aren't picking at any scabs." Brezzo Corum Mason kept a small image of the front-hall security feed in the bottom-left corner of the screen while he and Brezzo watched the news on the Vandemirium attack. It seemed the House's final fortress had fallen, and now it was just a matter of determining the facts of who of the Vandemirs had survived or fallen in the chaos. Movement from the small video feed below drew Mason's eye, and he saw his cousins and the young Douway leave the Sanhedrin alone in the front hall. "Brezzo, looks like we can wrap this up sooner than I thought. Go talk to Malief in the front hall now; you should have the place to yourself." After a quick glance to the security feed to verify Mason's observation, Brezzo agreed, slung the bag over his shoulder, and walked out of the lounge. The walk back to the front of the embassy took about a minute, and in that minute Brezzo reflected on the side of humans he disliked; the side of deceit, of intrigue. Surely all species lied for various reasons, but to a Lynxine who grew up knowing he could trust nearly all the souls of his home town to stand by his side and that he would do so for them, humanity seemed incredibly prone to avoiding the truth. Lying formed the basis of their government--countless myths about the "Ageless Emperor" only served to grant the man power and respect when he had done nothing to earn it. Secrets were how the various Houses held power against each other and secrets was what they bargained with. Even now, Brezzo was part of a secret meant to bring money to his friends while bringing unknown consequences to others. Brezzo always wanted to believe his dear companions, the men who owed him their lives many time and he owed them his, were honest, loyal brethren of House Jarn. Sometimes, though, the sound of subtle motives and whiffs of a lie reminded the Lynxine he was not among his own. Brezzo pushed open the heavy door and emerged into the grand entrance hall. Security at this time of night was limited to cameras, so the only other body in the room was the Sanhedrin, floating silently fifteen meters away. Brezzo never stopped walking, but mentally he forgot the moment and was absorbed with the vague form before him. Where the shade ended and the air began was impossible to determine, and the vibrant images around Malief seemed to dull and even become gloomy from its presence. It was not fear which shivered Brezzo's spine, but respect and forcing back his curiosity for the unknown power before him. This meeting was strictly business. The courier stopped two meters from the buyer; slightly beyond normal conversation distance. His stance was as tall as could be without obvious strain, and Brezzo looked firmly at the hood where he assumed the Sanhedrin's eyes would hide within. "You are Malief, yes? Who serves House Douway? I am here to close a deal between House Jarn and Douway made two months ago...for our mutual benefit." He un-slung the bag from his shoulder and held it under his right arm. Brezzo assumed the sounds of metal and glass containers made during the shift would clarify what was inside.
Capitol of Gibrani, enter Galigut the space Ork Amidst the capitol of Gibrani, there was built a tall tower. Center of commerce and intelligence. Little known was the fact that this towers height was rivalled by its depth, and these catacombs operated sleeplessly within the artificial earth. The dark bulk of a Duren sat still in a dimly lit cubby of these catacombs, staring with steadfast ruthlessness towards the man who had entered. This man was a spy for an important official within the Gibrani fold. Gibrani had hired the Duren into their ranks several months prior, but had yet to make use of him until now. Galigut was outwardly hostile by nature, this was known. Also known was his general disgust for humankind, which was one of the reasons he conducted his business off-ring. Another, perhaps, more prominent reason, was the nature of his occupation. Galigut was a mercenary lord among mercenaries who killed, stole and warred his way into a small legion of war technology, with enough Duren to occupy them. His name was fairly known to law enforcement and creatures in off-ring circles, but his brand of chaos had never reached so far as the ring itself. The spy before him was a human. Though he was not particularly intimidated right-off by the Duren, Galigut made it somewhat of an on-going goal to put the fear into every human he dealt with. Without a word, the spy laid Galigut's enveloped orders on a slab of condensed blue energy serving as a temporary table. To the space ork, such a gesture was irrelevant. Intelligence of Gibrani and the Imperium's objectives had been leaked mere hours before. Even a commoner could expect that there would be a military reaction to Gibrani's recent treason. Galigut's two eyes sat unwavering at the spy. Even from the Orks seated position, their height was equal. "Then your Master knows the terms." he growled, to which the spy paused his withdrawal and turned. "Was not your contract legible enough when we hired you?" the man said, "Our apologies if we presumed you could read." Galigut's grip tightened, and the sounds of his knuckles popping gave a brief start to the spy. "Hide your tongue, pale worm. My contract stands whether I wring you into putty or not." He paused, not ignorant to his own theatrics. "The contract has changed. Your Master knows the limits of our agreement, and war with the old God breaches them. Bring these words to him: All gunships I board are mine by right of spoils, as are the worms aboard my hostages." At these words, something beneath the headwrap on Galigut's forehead twitched and rotated. He rose to his feet, but stopped the spy before he exited to issue a final statement. "Also, he must show "it" to me. Now, leave."
Jessica Vandermir The had walked most of the night through the tunnel, mostly in pitch black. The tunnel ran straight thankfully. After what seemed like forever, they emerged out of a giant drain pipe onto a clover field. Cool night air and the sweet smell of clover seemed almost to pleasant to be accepted after the horror they'd just left. Jessica looked out at the field, illuminated only by star light, then fell on her knees and sobbed. Arthur just hugged her and cried too. After a while, when the sun was starting to cast it's pale light in the North, Jessica's eyes finally dried. She saw not to far away a farmhouse. "C'mon Arty, we need to keep going." She said gently. He had fallen asleep, head in her lap. He sat up, his eyes puffy and brown hair all tousled. They got up and started walking through the dew wet field, until they reached the small farm house. Jessica glanced around, it looked inhabited. She stepped onto the small porch and knocked on the door. A moment later the door burst open and an elderly man was behind. "Oh thank the Divine! Martha, you better make some food!" He shouted into the house. "I didn't think anyone had made it out. Come in, come in!" He ushered them in. "Who, I mean, thank you. You know us?" She asked. "Of course we do your ladyship." The old man bowed, his wife had bustled up now to. "We were so worried that no one had made it out of the castle!" She said, wringing her hands. "Who are you?" Jessica asked. "I am Goddard Pennington, and this is my wife Martha. I was your father's valet for many years your ladyship." He said. She had hear of him from her father. He had spoken of him as one of his only true friends. "Mr. Pennington, it is a pleasure to meet you, My father always spoke highly of you." Jessica said, as politely as she could, speaking of her father was difficult. Arthur just stood there looking lost. "It's our pleasure your ladyship." Martha said. "Can you help us?" Jessica asked. "I need to get somewhere safe." "That's already been taken care of m'lady." Goddard said. "As soon as the attack began, your father sent me word. We're to take you to Penberry on the border of here and the Foresyth lands. One of your father's men is waiting there. But for tonight, we'll give you warm beds and warm food, and leave in the morning." He finished. "Thank you so much, I can't even tall you how much this means." She said again, threatening to break down again.
Tezz My name is Zangir. Do you have somewhere we can converse, away from the maiden of lies Tezzriac stood his ground showing no signs of intimidation. Boldly he replied. "We can go back to my servants map shop if you wish. It is secluded and safe. But surley some one such as your self would have a million hidden locations. Espeicially if you serve the mystirious and secertive Sandhidren." Tezz eyed the creature, "well Zangir? what will it be?"
Zangir and Malief Zangir led the pair to a transport close by and it shot off into the centre of Coranum. The journey was incredibly silent with the Sanhedrin staring between the two, eyes never faltering and no eyelids to blink with. He just sat there, observing them. Studying them. The vehicle turned this corner and that one, until the road opened up onto the stretch of diplomatic buildings. First they past the Conventum with little view, save for the dark blue tents that had been erected to block the scene. But the blood still seeped along the steely concrete and slowly it oozed down each of the steps. Next were the diplomatic embassies where each House showed its personality through their architecture. All except the Douway. The river of smoke trickled higher into the night’s sky, and if you looked close enough you could still see the fiery embers hidden in the deadwood. But the Sanhedrin still gazed at the pair with a calm, yet unnerving focus. Finally the transport stopped outside a quaint little shop with a large front window covered in all kinds of paper, some days old; others centuries. A canvas of whites, greys and faded yellows stuck to the glass with scribbles of planets and universes far beyond the reach of Surmarack. Aladora's Maps n' Charts. Tezz and Fay readied themselves to stand before Zangir chirped up. “You two are a strange pairing for humans.” Cheeks flared red and eyes darted in opposite directions and somehow the silence had become more uncomfortable. After a few nervous laughs from the pair Zangir rose from his seat and exited the vehicle, leaving them inside. He waited a while before speaking once more. ”Shall we?” ______________________________________________________________________________________ "You are Malief, yes? Who serves House Douway? I am here to close a deal between House Jarn and Douway made two months ago...for our mutual benefit." Malief remained still, gazing at the illustrious history plastered to the walls of House Jarn. Mere gold and silver is not history, he said to himself. His focus quickly changed to the camera in the corner of the room, blinking with its little red light. Still he remained motionless, but slowly the camera wiring began to unplug itself and the little red light released its last flicker. Now he would address the feline. “Brezzo… this is unexpected.” The high pitched tone floated into the air while the cat was immediately taken aback. “How do you know my name?” “It is… of little importance.” Malief paused, musing in his thoughts. “I anticipated Mason’s appearance. Why does he… shroud himself?” The Lynxine was lost for words, and before he could counter the Sanhedrin piped in once more. “It is… unsettling.” Malief raised his head to reveal two slender white eyes staring straight at Brezzo. The evening air chilled the room, prickling at their skin and the winds howled, wrapping themselves around the structure like a vine, suffocating the noise in the room. The Sanhedrin tilted his head gently and waited silently as the northern weather battered the embassy. “Well?” Malief said, but his tone had changed somehow. Now his words were harsher and the high pitched chirp had been replaced by low, malicious stabbing. Everything was to the point. “I need to inspect the product before your master gets his funds.” He said. Brezzo threw the bag to Malief’s feet and watched as the Sanhedrin levitated the products out from the backpack and held them in mid-air. Carefully, he guided each sample to his face, one by one, examining the items. Suddenly all the items plummeted to the floor before freezing an inch from the floor. The slender white eyes narrowed on the cat. “This is not what I demanded.” Now Malief rose in the air and drove himself to within an inch of Brezzo’s face. Eyes locked, he whispered to his business partner. “These samples were not from the Man’grevi Rainforest. It is notorious for having rich, muddy soil deep in the banks of its rivers. The prime location for… expansion.” One of the phials flew between them, filled with dry, pale dirt. “The soil I want tends not to be dry and brittle – but this is. Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t have one of my ‘Whisperers’ deal with you?”
Fay Aladora “You two are a strange pairing for humans.” Cheeks flared red and eyes darted in opposite directions and somehow the silence had become more uncomfortable. After a few nervous laughs from the pair Zangir rose from his seat and exited the vehicle, leaving them inside. He waited a while before speaking once more. ”Shall we?” Fay led the group inside her father's shopping, praying to the heavens that he was out on a repair job or had gone home. She led them to a small table in the corner of the shop. She pulled back her cowl revealing her short black hair. The human with red eyes looked about the shop. She wanted to tell him to get on with whatever he wanted to speak about but she had to keep her cover. She needed to remain a loyal and quiet servant and let Tezz do the talking. Hopefully this man would have information to help them on their quest to kill the Emporer.
Tezz "Alright I'm going to cut the crap. Tell me... Do you know anything about the flow verse?" Tezz said in a low voise. "I'm sure you have figured it out by now, but what were are about to discuss may not be entirely legal, I trust that you are, okay with this?"
The Crimson Spy Although little time had passed. The skills of the crimson woman and its contact were good enough to help her mobilized very fast. For some reason people were gathering into .The House Jarn, She didn't had any reason more than an slight hunch..... Perhaps those had any involvement into the Rebellion that happened. There was also a hint gave previously by the man via a phone call Malief huh?...... Veeta suspected of him.... yet that wasn't a real problem.... after all she would thank anyone who incited this rebellion. Still she had to knew who were the players into this, otherwise her objectives could be threatened. Although she had no way to enter or hid into the room, she still had a method to indirectly spy the conversation... A pitch black substance started to came from inside her clothes... a black ooze?? The substance slowly descended to the floor and then moved several meters from the position where Veeta was... it approached the shadows to hid from the sight of anyone... and crossed through the gaps of the door... Finally it reached where Malief was.... and the tip hid and morphed into a very little device.... however despite its size, Veeta was able to hear the conversation inside the room. .....She won't let any detail escape from her hands.....
Narusa Virdosamal - The Isthus Librarian A collection of dusty documents piled against Narusa's desk; a welcome sight among the hustle and bustle that had happened around her. She wasn't always a fan of loud, in-explainable noises that were taking her away from the knowledge that laid before her. Sure, her best friend and coworker Vendra had already went outside to check what was happening at whatever god forsaken place that strange noise came from; something Narusa didn't care about. Shoving a pile of papers to her left, she took a pile of books with the tips of her fingers and clenched them tightly against her chest. Narusa was smart. Ridiculously smart; and these books held knowledge that the Coventum could possibly not even have. Mention of some of the tiniest houses, long forgotten and possibly dangerous. The very thought sent shivers down her spine. Sure; it took over 2 years to gather all the volumes of Minority Houses and their Overviews on Society but it was a priceless expedition to get them none-the-less. A whimsy chime clinked in the front room, startling her out of her day-dream. A familiar voice bellowed from the front room. "You still here Narusa?" the female's voice called out. It was Vendra. "Oh, of course. I couldn't just leave behind these volumes for YOU to research; could I?" Narusa giggled at her own joke, walking into the front room. "I suppose, I suppose-' Vendra chuckled. Vendra was quite tall, Isthus like Narusa; and filled with a case of hopeless romanticism. She spent her days reading cheesy romance novels beside the small fireplace in one of the far rooms, giggling like a schoolgirl who just got the innuendo her teacher had made. Redundant and possibly bewildering sure, but she was Narusa's best friend. "Did you find out what that noise was?" Narusa asked with curiosity. Vendra just shook her head and took a large sip from the drink she held in her right hand. "Something to do with houses and politics- you know I don't like anything boring like that." she replied, resting against the counter of the library's front reception desk. "Yeah, I forgot you like explicit books about the love of a Sanhedrin and a Lynxine fishmonger from Ardak'Tuul spaceport." Narusa chimed; sliding the books even further into her arms to keep them from toppling. "You just go on ahead and bring those books back to your house," Vendra replied; a slight smirk across her face. "catch ya in a bit." Narusa pushed open the front door of the library with one hand; supporting the books with the other. She didn't even realise the person making full-on contact with her, knocking the books out of her hands and most importantly; her falling halfway between a rotted sandwich and a waste disposal unit. "Ach, watch where you're going!" Narusa growled, brushing hair out of her eyes to scope the floor for her volumes.
"I would tell you the good news first, but there isn't any." Lark casually jested, sitting on a public call terminal outside of a library. A second of silence passed, and then the call was dropped by interference. "Hello..?" He squinted at the digital text, wore a confused expression, and then turned off the audio interface. He then checked the credit on the screen, saw there was a balance of 0.00, and left. This was a bit of subtle acting, a nonchalant art form to hide that which is secret. Much the same as his acting earlier that day when feigning racism to a Duren, he had done it so much that it was an obsession to practice whenever he could; Even if it almost got him "wrung into putty" every once in awhile. What he really meant by his statement over the terminal was that the Duren Galigut did not take the terms offered. Instead he was going to do as they predicted, which was to cause more upheaval for House Gibrani and more trouble for the Imperium than they wanted. Though it was not known to all members of House Gibrani, precautionary measures had been taken ever since the Imperium began bearing its fangs. One such, rather desperate, measure was the hiring of a Duren mercenary lord. This creature could not be realistically controlled, so instead the game was to get only as much chaos out of him as they wanted. Afterwards, he would be a scapegoat with no direct ties to Gibrani. The public would see Galigut for what he was; An opportunist and anarchist who capitalized on a military movement in order to capture a ship. For Gibrani, this would mean buying them enough time to move their secrets and clean up their operation. -- Several hours in a shuttle passed, and Lark arrived at Coranum. His outfit had changed, from clothing bearing the Gibrani seal to a slim space-proof suit without a helmet. Tucked under his arm was a rectangular shaped object, wrapped in a take-out bag and emanating smells of fried food. A rather poor disguise for his weapon, but one likely to survive the evening. With memorized footsteps he found his way from the bright lights and humming shuttles into the living spaces and closed up shops of Coranum's lower district. Two blocks down the street from his hotel, Lark pitched against an alley wall and periodically checked an electronic device on his wrist. Just then, a cartoon image of a wraith floated across the digital interface, leaving a smoky trail of numbers that quickly dissipated. A Sanhedrin had been spotted, and they knew where. Trailing a Sanhedrin wasn't easily done. In fact, it was mostly impossible. Translucent beings such as these could read brain waves, and the blatant intent of someone to follow a Sanhedrin would be instantly known. You could not intentionally stalk them, and there-in lied the one method with which to find them regardless. He had two options. The first option was more difficult, and involved having to trick himself into believing that not even he knew where he was going, but to still arrive precisely where he needed to be. Lark had already elected to choose the second option, one that was much more clean and safe. At least for him. He would manipulate an innocent civilian to be in the right place at the right time, to hear anything that could be heard. Afterwards, Lark would extract that information one way or another. Such was the fate of "Mind-Rex", a desperate, malnourished drug dealer who obviously dipped into his own merchandise a bit too often to come up with a name like that. He thought he was set for a big score, and at this point would probably no longer take no for an answer. He was told to wait by the door until the "guests" had left. Unbeknown to him, he carried a bit of uncharacteristic merchandise; A multimedia tracking device that gathered information on behalf of the dealer, in case he so happened to lose his tongue. Mind-Rex was a particularly bold breed of sleaze-ball, however, and Lark fully expected something a bit more entertaining to happen. Currently Mind-Rex arrived in front of Aladora's Maps n' Charts, fussing with something while on the walk-way. The three individuals, including the Sanhedrin, were already inside.
Grandfather Aladora Fay's grandfather stepped out of the taxi, paid the taxi driver and made his way towards his shop, Aladora's Maps n' Charts. A strange, desperate looking man was shuffeling his feet in front of the door and fiddeling with something in his hand. He leaned heavily on his cane as he approached the man. "Excuse me sir. Can I help you find something?"
Brezzo Corum Brezzo was on the defensive, and his ignorance of just what he was dealing with did nothing to calm his nerves. Malief's comments on Mason's absence put voice to Brezzo's concerns. His friend surely had a reason to avoid dealing with this business himself, but was putting Brezzo on the front of the deal helping or hurting the situation? Was there more danger here than the messenger knew? As the Sanhedrin removed its hood, Brezzo forgot himself for a moment and was again awed by the mysterious figure. Surely the shades did not remove their disguises for many of other species, so at first Brezzo took this as a gesture of trust or relaxing the situation. When Malief's tone suddenly sharpened, though, Brezzo caught himself staring more than thinking, and in an effort to hide his un-official demeanor, tossed the bag of samples to the Sanhedrin's feet--he instantly regretted this as the samples rattled around quite audibly. When Malief turned aggressive, Brezzo's first impulse was to claw the glowing white eyes from its head. Luckily, he refrained from his first impulse and went with his second, which was to take one surprised jump back after Malief mentioned a "Whisper" dealing with him. Brezzo may not know much specifics about how he was being threatened, but it was impossible to forget the ice was thinning beneath him. Surely embassy security would wonder what made the Sanhedrin angry and arrive soon to help. Brezzo felt relying on theoretical salvation was not reliable at the moment, though. Holding his hands up just above waist height, as if to erect a wall between himself and Malief, Brezzo spoke quickly with a lowerd level of confidence. "I did not collect the samples, sir, so please do not blame me for what you see before you. I..uh…I can tell you the Man'grevi is in its dry season right now…a particularly acute one which began two months ago." Now speaking on facts, Brezzo's voice calmed slightly and he stood straighter, rather than leaning back from his opponent. "I do not know what information you were looking for in these samples. All I can say is I recall many of the rivers we explored were very low below their banks, and so anything Mason gathered from them was drier than normal…I don't recall us ever digging much beneath the surface." Malief remained silent, which Brezzo took as a que for further explanation. "I'm sure if…if you have a proper analysis done on the samples, you will find their composition to be typical of the rivers in Man'grevi."
Mind-Rex "Excuse me sir. Can I help you find something?" The elder voice directed at the drug peddler Mind-Rex did not garner his direct attention at first; He was chuckling inwardly to himself while fiddling with something electronic. Slowly, though, his head rose and crooned to stare at the Aladora shop owner with the look of a strung-out vulture. "Try to find that cane after I stick it up your ass." he chuckled louder and turned back to the object he held. "Man, I'm in the wrong part of town." After a moment passed, and Grandfather Aladora remained, Mind-Rex's burnt out brain managed to produce a thought. He turned again, frowning. "Don't tell me you own this place..."
Grandfather Aladora "Don't tell me you own this place..." The druggie said. "I do. And if you don't leave my property in the next 30 seconds, I'll be forced to call the authorities." His face was stern and he emminated a strength that surpassed his age.
Mind-Rex, to Grandfather Aladora As it slowly sunk in that he had been stood up, for whatever reason, Mind-Rex's eyes began to glaze over. His petty dreams of selling second-rate drugs for a pocket full of cash and a night full of hookers quickly grew wings and flew. "I'm stuck up in tight-ass alley for NOTHIN'?!" He continued to curse, becoming less and less legible, even slamming his electronic trinket onto the pavement. He violently spun around, bringing a pocket blade into Grandfather Aladora's face. "I'm not leavin' here without your credits. Give it up, or you're dyin' right now." Recklessness and nervousness were spelled out on his face and in the tremble of his voice. A desperate fool with nothing to lose except a wretched life. Some blocks away, listening to all the happenings via the chip he planted on Mind-Rex, Lark sat on the seat of a jet bike. He wore a helmet that matched the space-proof suit he wore, though in this case it doubled as protective wear for biking. Within the tinted lens of a visor he held a disappointed expression. His drug-peddler puppet wasn't lasting very long, and upon threatening a man with violence, Rex's fate was now sealed. The Sanhedrin inside had probably sensed the happenings, and would either flee or bring a quick death to Mind-Rex. Either that, or authorities would break up the scene within a few minutes. With a low audio command, Lark sent a signal that caused the chip on Mind-Rex to fall down his leg and, with micro-rollers, steer itself into the shadows of the shop's front stairs. Lark fired up his jet bike, which beeped and hummed and rose a foot into the air, sustained by energy cells. He turned it around on a dime and drove in the direction of the Aladora shop.
Fay Aladora The reve of an engine right outside the shop, caused Fay to look out the window. She saw her grandfather standing there, with a knife to his throat. She jumped up knocking the chair over and dashed outside, pulling her shock gun as she did. The man had fallen to his knee and was trying to get away. She shot the taser gun at him and he collapsed unconscious. A bike was headed their way. Her grandfather laid a hand on her shoulder as they waited to see what it would do.
Lark's jet bike slowed to a stop a few feet from old man Aladora and his daughter. He looked to the fallen man, then back at the both of them. The visor rolled half way up his face, so that it still shrouded his cheekbones and eyes. "Are you both alright?" Beneath the visor, his eyes took in the young woman and looked to the windows and opened door for anything else of interest. Whoever she was, she had reason to meet with that certain Sanhedrin, a creature with ties to powerful men. Just as he hid his eyes beneath the visor, internally he hid his thoughts from the Sanhedrin who might read them. Powerfully he controlled his mind to believe he was really nothing more than a civilian who saw the commotion. The fact that his eyes darted about picking up details was only the result of an unconscious conditioning to perceive of whatever he could.
